“Christ invites us to remain in touch with the many sufferings of every day and to taste the beginning of hope and new life right there, where we live amid our hurts and pains and brokenness.”
Henri Nouwen

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

I came across these graphs made by a fellow bereaved mother on Babycenter the other day, and I wanted to share them.

Most of us think of grief like the first graph. We assume that grief gradually decreases as time goes on.

But grief is really more like the second graph. The "peaks" of grief remain as intense, or almost as intense, while the "good times" get longer and the peaks of grief get shorter.

This illustrates something that is so hard for me right now. I feel like so many people just want us to be all better. To be at the bottom of the first graph--where enough time has gone by, so our grief is not as intense. But we will never be all better. The second graph will go on forever.

In the beginning, I described it as two steps forward, one step back. We're in this constant motion of slowly moving forward. But some days (or longer), it's two steps forward, two steps back, over and over again while we just stay in the same place. Sometimes we graduate to three steps forward, but there's always that one step back. I anticipate that in the future, we'll get to ten steps forward, one step back. And so on. Walking in this grief for the rest of our lives, learning how to heal, but never getting all better.

Wednesday, May 09, 2012

Sometimes I am struck by just how much I ADORE my children. Jackson will do something that makes me realize how much he's growing up and everything he's learning. Leah will sing a song in a silly voice and make us all laugh. Or we'll read a book together and crack up at the end even though we've read it a million times before.

And then I get mad that I'm not continually falling madly in love with Hannah. Don't get me wrong--it was love at first sight. And I'll never forget everything about her sweet little body. But I don't get to KNOW her on this earth. I won't hear her laugh or watch her build an impressive tower of Legos. I won't sit and read her a book for the millionth time.

But then I remember that I'll get to spend an eternity with all of my babies. And I trust that God will use that vastness to redeem what we lost on this earth.

Monday, May 07, 2012

"If you know someone who has lost a child, and you're afraid to mention them because you think you might make them sad by reminding them that they died--you're not reminding them. They didn't forget they died. What you're reminding them of is that you remembered that they lived, and that is a great gift."

Saturday, May 05, 2012

It's been six months since Hannah came into our lives. Six months since we welcomed her into our family and then gave her to Jesus. Six months since we cradled her earthly body, while her heavenly body was being cradled by the Lord.